Four's Second Chance
by Crazy Cowgirl Cassie
Summary: Tris left and ten years later Tobias still doesn't know why. She was pregnant, with his twin children Brantley and Kale. AU Tris and Uriah are alive. 2 oc's (the twins)
1. Chapter 1

I sat on my bed staring at the grey wall, unmoving, uninterested. This had become ritual, habitual almost in the last ten years, the ten years that she has disappeared. A knock on the plain wood door. Zeke. Again. When will he realize that I just don't want to play fucking capture the flag anymore.

Whatever.

"Four! Open this damn door before I break it down."

I flop back on my bed and pull the black comforter over my head again.

"GO AWAY ZEKE."

"NO, get your lazy, depressed ass out here. You are supposed to be teaching the new initiates this year and they are almost here and you have yet to meet the person assisting you."

I groan and roll out of bed, bare feet hitting the cold cement floor of my apartment. I don't want to get up and face the rest of Dauntless, I don't want to help more of the sniveling whelps that call themselves initiates, and I don't want to accept the reality that _she's not coming back._

More pounding on the door. It's starting to make my hangover worse as I debate grabbing another beer out of the fridge, cause maybe if I drink enough, I can forget and my problems will just…

More incessant knocking.

"GO THE FUCK AWAY ZEKE." He doesn't get it and my door swings open, slamming against the wall. His dark eyes survey me from underneath a layer of messy fringe.

"You need to stop this Four." He's right but I can't. I've tried and I can't.

"What would she say if she saw you like this? Drinking yourself into oblivion and moping around your apartment all day." He spits the words out at me and I know that it's no secret why I am like I am now.

"It's been ten bloody years Four. She could very well be dead, no one has ever heard from Tris since she left. You're not the only one that lost someone."

I gaze at him through a fog of hangover induced stupor as he glares at me, and he should glare at me, he has every right to, he lost his wife, Shaun; to the war that took place almost twelve years ago now.

That doesn't stop me from growling at him though as he shoves me into the still cold shower, still clothed.


	2. Chapter 2

"I know you're trying to help Zeke but do you really think that tearing apart my drawers and throwing the contents everywhere is called help?"

I glare at him; still pissed, still feeling like shit, but now at least I don't stink like a sewer. My apartment is in ruins, clothes thrown everywhere and half of them aren't even mine. They were _hers._

"Yes. Do you even do your laundry Four?" Zeke asks, exasperated. The vindictive part of my personality is glad that he is having difficulty.

"Only when I need to."

I give him a shrug and slap a cold smirk on my face that I have worn in public ever since the week she left. On the bedside table a shirt rests over top of a picture of us together and in the drawer underneath, I know without looking that the little black box sits dormant and alone waiting to be opened. It probably won't be opened, not now, not in the future, because no one could take her place.

He reaches down beside himself and then throws a muffin at my head which hits my nose before I catch it.

I let it fall to the floor, I am quite simply not hungry.

"You have to eat."

I grab the half squished muffin off of the floor, hoping maybe if I eat anyway he will leave. I rip a big piece off the top with my teeth and attempt to cram the thing into my dry mouth only to spit it out, nearly choking.

"Happy now?" I wheeze.

"Very." Zeke replies with a look that makes me want to slap him.

The caverns were eerily silent as they always are on choosing day every year except for the screaming as each initiate jumps. Until a scuffling and a crash erupted around the net.

I threw a concerned glance at Zeke and took off sprinting, hopefully Peter didn't try to start shit with an initiate again this year. Skidding to a stop when we get to the room; there is a woman brushing dirt off of her black jacket, she stands a head and a half shorter than I do with blonde hair flowing loosely down her back and a very bloody, unconscious Peter on the ground.

I stare wide eyed, she turns and as she meets my eyes my heart breaks all over again. Tris stares at me rubbing her hand over her bloody fist.

"Tris?"


End file.
